Harry Potter And Slytherin's Chamber
by Half-BPrincess
Summary: Sequel to Harry Potter And The Slytherin's Stone: Harry and friends are back for their second year at Hogwarts, but when a mysterious creature starts killing their classmates, will Harry become the hero and saviour the Gryffindors think he could be?


- Chapter 1 -

- What The Dursleys Did Next -

"He's out." The acerbic voice of Petunia Dursley travelled down the phone line.

"Do you know when he might be back, Mrs Dursley?" Hermione returned politely.

"No." Petunia snapped.

"Well then, do you know where he's gone?" Hermione persisted.

"No." Petunia repeated shortly. "Is that all?"

"I... er... I suppose so." Hermione flinched at the harsh click as the elder woman hung up. She bit her lip as she looked up at her father, who had stayed with her as she made the call.

"She said he was out again, did she?" He asked, frowning as Hermione nodded in agreement. "And you've not spoken to him at all this week, not since the station?"

"No, Daddy." Hermione's lower lip trembled. "I haven't talked to him at all."

"Perhaps it's about time to call my friend in Child Services." Mr Granger mused aloud. "Get him to escalate the concern I called in." Hermione bit her lip again.

"Maybe... Maybe I should write to Draco first. His father did put that charm on Harry, he might know a little bit more." Hermione's jaw set as she came to a decision. Her father sighed, having seen the same expression on the face of his wife many times – usually indicating he was about to lose an argument.

"Well then, sweetheart, why don't you go write your letter, and I'll tell your Mum we're taking a trip to London, so you can send it at that post office of yours. The sooner we send it, the sooner you'll get a reply."

"Thank you Daddy!" Hermione ran up and wrapped her arms around her father, hugging him tightly.

"Maybe we'll see about getting you an owl for yourself while we're there. Might save us from travelling into London so often." Mr Granger thought aloud, mentally tallying the cost in petrol of their recent number of trips to the capital. Looking down at his daughter he smiled, watching as she bounced up the stairs, mumbling happily to herself about an owl. "Don't forget that letter, Hermione!" He called after her as he resolved to go and tell her mother about the pet he'd just accidentally-on-purpose promised their daughter.

HBP – HBP – HBP – HBP – HBP -

_Draco,_

_ My parents and I haven't been able to contact Harry through Muggle methods, and we're starting to get worried about him. I know your Father put that charm on him, so I was hoping that you had a better idea of what's going on. I hate to think of Harry being stuck there with those __beastly__ people all summer, who knows what they'll do to him?_

_ Daddy says that if your Father isn't entirely sure that Harry is okay, then he's going to ask his friend in Child Services to pay a visit to them with a couple of police officers. At least that way if anything is happening, they'll get Harry out, and safe, even if it isn't with either of us._

_ How has your summer been otherwise? My parents and I have visited four museums already, and I've been into Diagon Alley several times too (I'm sure you can already guess that I went to Flourish and Blotts every time). Seeing as your Father is on the Board of Governors, you don't suppose that he'd have any idea what books we'll need for next year, or even any that might be helpful for Second year? I'm awfully impatient to get started on preparing, and I've already read over everything from First year again._

_ Yours hopefully,_

_ Hermione_

_ P.S. The owl that's carrying this is my new owl, Diogenes. He's very clever, so if you tell him to bring your letter back to me, he will._

HBP – HBP – HBP – HBP – HBP -

It took just over a day for Diogenes to return with Draco's letter, the beautiful horned owl waiting in the kitchen when the bushy-haired Ravenclaw awoke. Rushing across the room, still barefoot and in pajamas, Hermione gently removed the letter, pausing only to give the owl a piece of bacon from the plate her mother had just set out for her.

"Is this from your friend Harry, dear?" Hermione's mother asked. All three Grangers had been alarmed at the silence from a boy that Hermione described as one of her best friends.

"No, Mum, it's from Draco." Hermione replied, absently sipping at her glass of orange juice as she skimmed the letter.

"Well has he said anything interesting?" Her mother asked, only to be met by a frustrated sigh. "I'll take that as a no." She said dryly.

"He's basically said nothing at all!" Hermione almost growled, throwing the letter onto the table before taking a knife and fork to her breakfast.

"Do you mind if I..." Hermione shook her head, pushing the letter across to her mother before the elder woman could finish her question.

_Hermione,_

_ My summer so far has been dreadfully busy – I'm sure you understand that my family has many social engagements, and now that I am of Hogwarts age, I am expected to participate in many. It has meant that I have been able to see many of our classmates, although whilst seeing Blaise and Theo Nott is a good thing, running into Longbottom and Weasley is not as well appreciated._

_ How are you finding your time away from the Hogwarts library? Mother tells me that I should remind you that you are welcome to visit, if you would like to, and I'll add that Malfoy Manor hosts one of the largest private magical libraries in Britain, which I know will have you rushing to the nearest Floo connection._

_ Father says that the monitoring spell he placed on Harry hasn't noted any harm to him. As to your attempts to get Harry away from those awful Muggles, while I'm sure that you have the best of intentions, my Father is working on a bill to be put through the Wizengamot that will release Harry from them, which will no doubt be successful. He will be removed to a proper Wizarding family in no time at all._

_ Yours respectfully,_

_ Draco Malfoy_

_ Noble House of Malfoy_

"He says barely anything about Harry, it's like he's not worried about him at all!" Hermione complained around a mouthful of breakfast.

"Speak after food, dear." Her mother reprimanded absently. "Are you sure that this Draco boy is a good friend to you? He seems rather... stand-offish in the letter."

"You mean arrogant, Mum." Hermione corrected, smiling. "He is, but he's also a good friend, to me, and to Harry, which is why this makes no sense at all! I know his Dad says that Harry's not hurt, but I don't know if his charm would show anything other than Harry being hurt physically. From what I've read..."

"We'll get your Dad to talk to his friend again." Her mother cut off her explanation of her reading, something that she knew, from experience would not only be thorough, but also very long and likely partially incomprehensible. "Maybe we'll see if Dad can go with him, he could take one of your letters and give it right to Harry."

Hermione beamed up at her mother.

"Thanks, Mum." The young girl fed another scrap of bacon to her owl, much happier now that her parents were working to got everything sorted, now sure that news of Harry would not be so long in coming.

HBP – HBP – HBP – HBP – HBP -

"Look, Dan, the only way this is going to work is if I'm a private citizen with you. I just happen to be with you, as you're hand delivering a letter to your daughter's friend. If they let us in, and we see something wrong with this boy, then it can go to the police, and get official on my end." Richard Sherman was a no-nonsense senior social worker. He and Dan had met at university, both having played on the university's rugby team, and had stayed in touch after they'd both graduated.

"I get it, Rich." Daniel Granger nodded in agreement. They'd parked his Land Rover just around the corner from Privet Drive, wanting a little extra time to go over their rather short plan. "Now it's just time for me to cross my fingers." He reached out and opened the car door. Richard, however, just sat still.

"Tell me, Dan, what do you want to find at this house?" He asked carefully. "I know you and Emma have made sure to keep yourselves on the emergency list for fostering – are you hoping that this boy comes to you?"

Daniel Granger sighed, pulling the car door shut again.

"I hope that I find that Hermione was just worrying. I hope we see Harry playing in the garden with friends." Here he paused, seemingly searching for the right words to convince his long time friend of his sincerity. "However, I don't expect that that's what we'll find. I met this brute of an uncle – he barely looked at the child, there's clearly no love lost between them. And I know that it could just be a young boy acting out but... I _feel_ like it's something more than that. If it is, I hope we can take him anywhere away from here." Dan fell silent, frowning at the steering wheel.

"You're a good man, Dan." Richard smiled.

"I won't lie, Emma and I would enjoy having Harry stay with us, but we'd enjoy it just as much if he was visiting and coming back to a loving family. I'd not want a child taken away from that." Dan admitted slowly. Richard's smile widened.

"Knew I liked you for a reason, Granger!" He swiftly opened the car door, and jumped out. "Are you coming, or not?"

HBP – HBP – HBP – HBP – HBP -

Whilst at university, Daniel Granger had been known as somewhat of a ladies man. Standing at six foot three, his athletic body and wide smile had allowed him to talk many women into his bed, and many of his friends out of trouble. At the dental practice he shared with his wife, he took it upon himself to deal with most of their more troublesome patients, affecting interest and slowly talking them into calming down for procedures.

Thanks to his wide experience, talking Petunia Dursley into letting them into her home had been a piece of cake. Sugar free, of course.

"You can see why I had to visit in person, I'm sure." Dan smiled charmingly, taking a sip of the tea that Petunia had provided him with. "We both know that boys will be boys, out all day and never bothering to write, but my little girl – and my wife, haven't had much experience with young boys. Certainly not as much as you have, dealing with two." Dan gestured to the mantelpiece covered in photo frames, which Richard was carefully browsing through.

"Well, my Dudley has never been a problem." Petunia replied defensively. "He's always been an angel, helping me out, never in trouble."

"How could he be anything but, with a woman like yourself for a mother?" Dan worked hard to keep the simpering smile on his face, swallowing down bile at the words he spoke. Petunia didn't seem to notice, giggling slightly, and blushing.

"I take it that it's your son in all of these pictures?" Richard asked.

"Yes, Dudley's always loved having photographs taken, and Vernon and I couldn't deny him that. We've got albums upstairs filled with him demanding he have his picture taken!"

"He's a strapping boy." Richard nodded. "My dear, may I use your bathroom, before we leave? It's clear that your nephew won't be back for some time."

"Of course, Mr Sherman." Petunia smiled. It's just up the stairs, first door on the right."

"Thank you." Richard left the living room, being sure to close the door behind him. Now that he was inside the house, he could clearly see what had worried his friend for so long. The woman – Petunia – had been talking for over thirty minutes, not once mentioning her nephew, Harry. Of the dozen or so photos he'd seen, none contained Harry. It was almost as if there were only one child residing at Number 4, Privet Drive. Frowning to himself, he took the stairs two at a time, intent on investigating the rooms upstairs.

The first door on the right was, as Petunia had said, the bathroom, in which there was little to interest him. The next door was the master bedroom – again containing only photographs of Dudley, and his parents. The third door he tried was a child's bedroom. Large wooden letters above the bed proclaimed it to belong to Dudley, something he could have guessed from the large numbers of expensive toys strewn across the floor. Stepping out, he turned to the last room.

The door was quite battered, with chips of paint missing, and odd holes where screws had once been. Richard traced them with his fingers, recognising the pattern of locks, recently removed from his long years of work investigating homes. Taking a deep breath, he pulled open the door, to reveal-

Nothing. This room was bare, dingy even. The furniture in this room was easily years older than in the rest of the house, mismatched and in bad condition. The bare floorboards were slightly uneven, and splintering in places. Richard crossed into the room, testing the strength of the bars that covered the only window in the room. Internally, he sighed. Even with the many suggestions of wrongdoing, and his own ill-feelings towards the treatment of the child he had yet to see, he and Dan had yet to come up with any evidence. And a lack of evidence meant that Harry would stay with the Dursleys still.

Richard came down the stairs noisily, signalling to Dan that he was ready to leave. Sure enough, the door to the living room opened as he reached the bottom stair. A slight shake of Richard's head indicated that he'd not found Harry.

"Well thank you very much for your hospitality, Mrs Dursley." Dan pressed the letter that Hermione had written into the sour woman's hand. "Please, when he does arrive home, pass this letter on to Harry, Hermione would be very grateful if you could convince him to pen a response."

"I'll pass it along, Mr Granger." Petunia promised, however the dark look that flashed across her face as she accepted the envelope told a different story. Richard stepped forwards to shake hands with the woman, when he heard a distinct thump come from underneath the stairs.

Both men spun around, ignoring Petunia's frantic assertion that a mop simply must have fallen over. Even she fell silent at the second loud thump. Richard bent down to examine the door to the cupboard underneath the stairs. There, preventing it from opening were three padlocks, coincidentally corresponding to the holes in the door from upstairs.

"Madam, you will open this door." Even Richard was surprised at the venom in his voice. "You will open this door right this instant!"

"I've not got to do anything!" Petunia spat back, teeth flashing viciously. "I can keep a door locked if I want to! But you – you – _both of you_ – have to get out of my house, or I'll call the police."

Dan took out a mobile phone from his pocket.

"No worries, I'll call them now."

Petunia had gone white.

"I don't have the keys." She whispered. "Vernon takes them with him."

"_What _is in this cupboard?" Richard asked, icily, already fearing the answer.

"The boy – my nephew." Petunia responded slowly, in a very small voice. "Harry."

HBP – HBP – HBP – HBP – HBP -

The police had arrived remarkably quickly, once summoned. A keen constable had picked the lock to the cupboard, revealing a semi-conscious, emaciated Harry. Dan had rushed to kneel next to him, the police officers wary of moving the child before an ambulance arrived. Petunia was, of course, on her way to the police station, and Richard was on the phone to his work, making arrangements to house Dudley, whilst his parents were being investigated, and Harry, once he'd been released from hospital care.

"Mist' Gr'nger," Harry's eyes fluttered open, his words slurred slightly. "What're you doin' here?"

"I came to see how you are, Harry." Dan smiled down at the boy, taking his hand gently. "Hermione's been missing you."

"Miss H'mione too." Harry smiled. "An' Draco, an' Blai', an' jus'-"

"Careful, Harry," Dan whispered. "Remember where you are."

"Dur'leys." Harry replied slowly. "I don' like it here." His face creased in worry, head slowly shaking from side to side. "Wanna go 'way."

"It's okay, Harry, you're going away from here. We're going to get you better, and Hermione, and me and her mum are going to make sure that you're okay."

"H'mione's nice." Harry mumbled, a smile sliding up one side of his face. "She' so-oooo smar'."

"Well she tells me that you're smart too I hear you came second in your year overall, Hermione's been telling us that she needs to study more because you're catching up to her!" Dan kept talking to Harry, trying to make sure he stayed awake. "Hermione's got a new owl too, did you know? He's almost as pretty as that owl of yours, she says – what's your owl like, Harry?"

"She's call' He'wig," Harry's face lit up as he began to tell Dan all about his snowy owl, clasping the older man's hand. Harry wouldn't let go even when the paramedics arrived. "Don' leave me." He'd whined pitifully, tugging at Mr Granger's heartstrings.

Really, the man had no chance against those wide green eyes, and so he handed off his car keys to Richard, leaving himself free to travel in the ambulance with Harry. The paramedics had been rather cautious, letting Harry sip water mixed with sugar while they monitored his heart rate, and blood pressure. It seemed to Dan that Harry hadn't drunk much before he turned his head away.

"Feel sick." He mumbled, but Dan thought he saw a glimmer more colour in his pale cheeks.

Once they were settled in the hospital, Harry sleeping fitfully, Dan slipped away to call home. Hermione picked up on the first ring, sure to have been sitting next to the phone, desperate for news.

"Dad?" She'd asked hopefully. "How is he? Is he okay? What's going on? Are you okay?"

"I won't lie to you, Hermione." Dan _had_ considered lying, but Hermione would want to see her friend, and his emaciated form would tell the story on its own. "Harry's not been treated well, but we got to him in time. He's in the hospital now, but he's going to be okay. Harry is safe now."


End file.
